


When I Think

by Kumiko



Category: Original Work
Genre: Acceptance, Dissociation, F/M, Running away from the problem, Self-Hatred, threats of self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumiko/pseuds/Kumiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has insecurities, and everyone has a way of escaping from it. <br/>She just has a very creative way of... eliminating her problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Think

She stood in front of a mirror. She’s beautiful. She's intelligent. She’s modest. She’s humble. She walks with her head held high. A smile permanently plastered on her face. She takes disrespect with ease. She doesn’t curse in public. She cares about people. She’ll hold the door when she sees people come by, even when she’s in a rush. She’ll give money, even when she doesn’t have enough money for herself. She compliments everyone. Not everyone likes her, but nobody hates her. She’s the perfect projection of happiness. 

Inside, she hates her face, her hair, her figure. She hates that she hates herself. The disrespect lingers and festers. She smiles, and hides to cry alone. She’s kind to everyone, but talks to no one. Her head held high, but her eyes fixate on the ground. She exudes confidence, but she holds her hand in a fist to stop the shake of fear. She’s intelligent, but fears responsibility. She secretly hates a lot of people, but pretends to care. She talks about being happy, but she bottles up her feelings. She wants to let loose, but fears the consequences. 

She looks in the mirror, and fights giving up on looking back into her own eyes. She fights clawing at her own eyes. She fights shattering the glass that portrays her every flaw. And no Mister Right comes along to change that, and Mom’s “you’re beautiful”s doesn’t make the hate disappear. The desire to claw the imperfection away is strong, but she’s no hero. She’s a coward. 

Nails won’t claw long enough. Suffocation won’t work long enough. A knife couldn’t cut deep enough. Every day, she suffers her imperfections. She cries in silence, she dreams of death. 

She cried. And cried. And cried. Until the tears stopped working. She picked up a pen, and turned her imperfection into proof that it could be changed. She created a world, and killed, mutilated, and tortured her disgust until the mirror reflected satisfaction. She was the creator. She was empowered. 

The claws didn’t have to be long, the knife didn’t have to be deep, the lack of air didn’t have to work. In her world, they worked perfectly. In her world, Dad stayed, then she killed him. Mom’s words were enough, and saved her. Mister Right saved her, and whisked her away. 

Reality was simply material. Another world to create so she could destroy it all over again. Her insecurities were someone else’s. Her imperfection was nothing. The disrespect meant nothing. The loneliness _was_ nothing. 

The mirror portrayed a beautiful woman. A confident woman. A head held high. Her eyes reflected love for what she could do for herself. She touched the mirror, and turned away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that fluttered in my head, since I love writing about depravity. :) Anyway, yes, I am working on more stories, buuuuut I'm in college, and I have an environment science and history test coming up. So yeah, I'm going to be really busy. But I will persevere!
> 
> Kudos, comment, etc away! And have a good night, and rest of the week.


End file.
